


Sign

by kifotheprotector



Series: Vuldstein [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack?, Curses, I can't tell if this is crack, Molossia is a little shit, cursing, signs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kifotheprotector/pseuds/kifotheprotector
Summary: Molossia has a favorite sign on America's farmThis sign also relates to his jobI can't tell if this is crack or not
Relationships: America & Molossia (Hetalia)
Series: Vuldstein [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950979
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Sign

America owned a ranch out west. Molossia had visited it many times and had even lived there once. But the one thing that was probably his favorite part of the ranch was when America opened it up for things such as corn mazes, pumpkin patches, parties, petting zoos, and educational opportunities. 

Because there was a sign. 

One of Molossia’s favorite signs. 

And his job whenever he was helped out with the events. 

A job that America paid him in both cookie dough and American dollars. 

The best job in the entire world. 

Oh, what a glorious job it was. 

Molossia sat in a small and very comfortable room that was just under the house’s circling porch. A large tree just beside the door. There were cushions, bean bags, a tall table with stools, an older TV, a VHS player just under that, and the whole place lit up with little strings of lights. 

Molossia would sit by two coolers, one with ice and one without. Waiting patiently (well, kind of patiently, he was on his phone or reading a book while he waited) for his prey to waltz right in. 

And today, was one of those days. 

America had opened up his ranch for a family stargazing and outer space exhibited tour and petting zoo. It ran from noon until midnight for two weeks. A few of the farm’s employees and a few of America’s friends would give the tour and America would run the petting zoo. So far, eight little children had been Molossia’s prey, although nine had entered his cave. 

The first had been a little girl with blond hair and big brown eyes that were filled with tears. She fell the first night. 

The second had been a tiny little tot that had wandered off and had eyed Molossia with fear. He fell the second day. 

The third had been an older, yet resistant, boy with acid green eyes. Molossia had broken him down. He too fell the second day. 

The fourth had been a tween girl, almost ready to go to middle school with head held high. Oh, how naive she had been. She was the last to fall the second night. 

The fifth had been a little girl with blue eyes and fought him, and gave him bruises. Molossia had great joy in snaring her in his trap. She fell on the third day. 

The sixth had been a cute little girl with a cute little button nose, and eyes so wide with curiosity. Molossia... left her alone. She reminded him too much of America. 

The seventh had been a rambunctious boy and reminded him of Sealand. Molossia had taken great pleasure in taking him down. The first to fall on the fourth day. 

The eighth had been an annoying KnowItAll girl who constantly corrected him on facts over the world. She regretted correcting him on the other micronations. She fell on the fourth day. 

The ninth had been a sweet little boy who talked too much. It was easy to take him. He fell the fifth day. 

Today was the sixth day. 

No little children had been led to or wondered into his little hidey-hole so far. So, he waited. 

Around five o’clock, a little boy nervously peeked in. He was pudgy around the middle with big brown eyes, slightly messy cherry brown hair. He wore a t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, knee-high socks, and a puffy coat - most likely for when it got colder that night. 

He blinked at Molossia. Molossia put his phone down. Chase, Molossia’s dog, perked up. He barked at the skittish little boy. The boy jumped. Molossia smirked, this kid was going to be fun. 

“So, another kid is unattended.” He drawled. The little boy blinked, brown eyes flickering between Molossia and Chase. Slowly he nodded. “A-are...” The little boy swallowed “Are you, Morro?” He asked. Molossia nodded, keeping his smirk. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. “Jack.” The little boy said. “Nice to meet you.” Molossia crooned. “Now, did you read the sign’s outside?” Jack nodded. “A-are y-you really g-going to-” He quivered. “Yes.” Molossia’s smirk took a slightly evil curve. He opened his two coolers. 

“So, what kind of drink do you want? I’ve got most types of energy drinks and a few different types of expresso.” 

“My mama says I’m not allowed to have energy drinks or coffee.” Jack said simply. “Well, your mama’s not here.” Molossia pointed out. “But she will! And if she does come by and finds me drinking those, she might get mad at me!” Jack squealed. Molossia gave him a deadpan look. Jack blinked. 

“I just have to give it to you, you don’t have to drink it.” Molossia said. Jack shifted. “The one with the lightning seahorses.” He muttered. Molossia snorted and gave him the cold can. 

“Now, time for your lesson. You’ll repeat after me.” “Bu-” “She won’t know if you don’t tell her and if you repeat after me, I’ll let you watch a Disney movie. Got that, ya little fucker?” Jack nodded. 

“Good. Raclure de bidet.” 

“R-raclure de bi... bidet?” 

“Good. Now, I’ve got Snow White in.” 

“That’s it?” Jack asked, wandering over to the bean bag chair. “Until you start hearing me during the movie. I like making commentary.” Molossia turned on the TV and hit play. Jack eyed him warily. “Oh, come on. You read the sign. I’ve got to get it through your head.” Molossia smirked. 

Molossia and Jack settled down as they watched the movie. Molossia often calling the queen ‘an asshole fucker’ and the huntsman ‘a spinless squatter’. 

Grumpy earned the name ‘dick head’. Doc earned the name ‘weirdo’. Sleepy was called ‘shiter’. Happy was called ‘an evil fucker’. Sneezy was called ‘allergy’. Bashful was called ‘spineless ass’. Dopy was called, well Dopy. Molossia liked him. And Prince Charming was called ‘a fucking necrophilia stalker’. 

By the end of the movie, Jack was certain he had heard more curse words than he could even care to remember. 

Then a soft knock on the wood outside. 

“What the fuck?!” Jack squealed, snapping around to see his startled mother and a man who was trying very hard not to laugh. 

“Ha! I got you!” Molossia declared. “Excuse me? What just came out of your mouth?” Jack’s mother screeched. Jack trembled, scared of the oncoming storm. He was bound to be grounded for a week. “Everyone warned you, ma'am. I honestly can’t tell why you and everyone else gets so surprised.” The man chuckled. 

Jack’s mother whipped around to face him. “I will get your farm shut down.” She hissed, before grabbing Jack and storming away. 

Molossia laughed as America watched the woman screech all the way to her car. “He’ll be fine. She’ll just ground him.” America shrugged as Molossia doubled over in laughter. 

“That never gets old.” Molossia wheezed. “Well, I’m glad the things Canada taught you are put to good use. Good work” America laughed. Molossia beamed at the praise. “Anyway, I’ll be back. Try not to do anything too rash.” And with a wink, America left. 

Molossia smiled after him and turned to one of the many signs around the farm. Although this one was copied and pasted around the farm quite a bit, it still held Molossia’s heart for his favorite sign. 

**_WARNING_ **

**_UNATTENDED CHILDREN WILL_ **

**_BE GIVEN ENERGY DRINKS_ **

**_AND TAUGHT HOW TO SWEAR_ **

**_THE OWNER TAKES GLEE IN THIS_ **

**_SO PLEASE DON’T LEAVE YOUR CHILD_ **

**_UNATTENDED. WE DON’T NEED_ **

**_TO SEE HIM DOING HIS HAPPY_ **

**_DANCE._ **

**_-JONES FARM EMPLOYEES_ **

In the distance he could hear the farmhands groaning and America's loud laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE COMMENT! I really like hearing feedback and critiques. 
> 
> Raclure de bidet means bidet scum. 
> 
> Here's the website I found it on 
> 
> https://www.thelocal.ch/20190702/the-nine-very-best-french-insults-for-use-when-youre-very-very-cross-language 
> 
> It's number seven


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